


Come They Told Me

by RedFive



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Music, Dark Will, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Murder Husbands, Murder Monstery, domestic snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8530192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFive/pseuds/RedFive
Summary: Will and Hannibal discuss Hannibal's poor taste in Christmas music while baking cookies and celebrating their first Christmas together.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StringerBelle_27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StringerBelle_27/gifts).



“You are doing this to fuck with me,” Will said as he popped another cookie into his mouth. Will should never have told Hannibal about the ravenstag. The jokes were never going to  end–not during the holiday season at least. **  
**

“I have easier ways of doing that,” Hannibal purred as he bent over the oven removing another piping hot tray of sugar cookies while Christmas music blared over the speakers.

“You aren’t the only one,” Will said as he watched. From his seat at the counter, Will had a great view of Hannibal’s ass. The fit and wide stripes of his green plaid pants made his butt look round and inviting. “Too bad Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer killed my my boner. That can’t be your favorite Christmas song. It just can’t.”

“It is,” Hannibal said as he scooped cookies off the tray.

“It most certainly is not. _Carol of the Bells_ , Bach’s _Christmas Oratorio_ , ANYTHING from the _Nutcracker_ suite…that I could understand. There is no way that you like Rudolph. He’a pathetic! Not to mention useless until a random act of God made him necessary. It doesn’t fit.”

The melody of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer buzzed across Hannibal’s lips as he inched down the counter checking the temperature of the other batches until he found a grouping of cookies cool enough to decorate. Will was positive that this was all part of some game Hannibal was playing. He didn’t know what that game was, but Hannibal had baited his line well.

“I’m like Rudolph. That’s why it’s your favorite,”  Will said and picked up one of the fresh cookies. It was still too hot to touch so he ended up dropping it onto the floor instantly. Their dog, Comet, moved to intercept, but Will had already scooped it back up.

“Will!” Hannibal shouted but too late. The cookie was already in Will’s mouth partially on its way to his stomach. “Eeh, I wish you would not do that,” Hannibal said. It would not be the first time they had argued about the ‘5 second rule’.

“I wish you wouldn’t bake so often. I think I’ve gained fifteen pounds since we moved in together.”

Hannibal spread some buttercream onto the first cookie. The icing was as thick as gesso and bone white, which made it appear more sinister than sweet in Hannibal’s hands. “I like you like this. You are no longer skin and bones as a result of your habit of skipping meals. You have become softer inside and out. I like you very much, Will.”

“More malleable you mean,” Will corrected and slammed the door on the feelings of frustration that welled up from that wound. One day he would have to face them. One day he and Hannibal would have to deal with what they had done to each other, but not today. Maybe not for years. For now, Will was determined to enjoy their first Christmas together even if Hannibal was going to being a giant prick about it.

Hannibal glanced up from the cookies. His eyes looked hurt but loving. “Not malleable, Will. You have always been too stubborn to bend completely to my design.”

“I’ve bent my morals. Killed with you. Killed for you when that agent caught up to us in Toronto.  You changed me, Hannibal. I’m still changing, and I don’t think softer is the right word for it.”

“I provided the opportunity. You are choosing the shape of your becoming, but in other ways, I suppose I did make you mine,” Hannibal said and held out one finger dipped in cream for Will to lick.

Will leaned over the counter sucked it clean for longer than was necessary. His tongue flicked across the joints of Hannibal’s finger pulling a soft, hungry moan out of him. _‘Hah! How do you like them reindeer games, jerk face?’_

“Maybe we should let the cookies cool for a bit,” he suggested and curled his finger inside Will’s mouth catching him like a fish on a hook.

Will tore himself off Hannibal’s line. “Only after you tell me your favorite Christmas song for real this time.”

“It is _Carol of Bells_ ,” he said. “You know me too well. Now will you tell me yours?”

“Guess.”

“Rudolph.” Hannibal answered immediately with a bright twinkle in his eye that would put Santa to shame. In hindsight, Will should have seen it coming, but Hannibal was skilled at attacking from his blindspots.

“I _fucking_ hate you,” Will snapped.

Hannibal smiled and began to untie his apron. “Oh?” he said and backed into a corner of the kitchen. “Come here.”

Will stood up glaring with feigned menace. Overhead the steady thrumming of _The Little Drummer Boy_ started up as Will advanced on his lover. “Shall I play for you, Doctor Lecter?”

“Yes. Show me how much you hate me,” he said with the confidence of card player who held a royal flush. 

Taking Hannibal by the hips Will crowded him against the countertop and took his lips into his teeth. They moved against each other in time to the _thump-thump-thump_ of a little toy drum. 

“Merry Christmas,” Will whispered between heartbeats.

“Merry Christmas, Will," Hannibal returned.


End file.
